Disclaimer: Still belongs to JKR and all of her people...


Chapter 9

The Wand Does Not Choose the Wizard

Severus sat propped up in the stiff hospital bed with his arms crossed, frowning deeply. His hair was a clean but matted mess, lying flat in the back and sticking out in odd angles at the front. His hospital gown was grey and (much to his relief) not lime green like the bedding.

Healer Arangia was true to her word that Barney would now be guarding him. He was squeezed into a chair that was placed next to the entrance of the room, immersed in reading the special early edition of the Daily Prophet. Barney spent a painfully long time reading the front page, mouthing each syllable and casting nervous glances toward Severus as he did so. Finally, he flipped the paper over and Severus could see the headlines:

Harry Potter Prevails!

The Fall of a Dark Wizard

Hogwarts Under Siege: Stories of Heroism and Tragedy

When his eyes met a particularly bad picture of himself with the caption, "Headmaster Snape: Hero or Villain?", he stopped reading immediately and decided that the wall in front of him was much more interesting.

He had been wondering why there weren't Aurors pounding down the door to finally arrest him for murdering Dumbledore. He was sure that it was only a matter of time. Now that the Dark Lord had fallen, people would start pointing fingers, and who better to point at than he?

He continued to stare at the wall and again tried to recall the events prior to his hospitalization. He remembered Nagini striking him and Potter appearing out of nowhere. He knew that he had given the boy some of his memories out of desperation, but he couldn't remember which. He found that in his weakened state, he was rather relieved for this. He was sure the memories were of a very personal nature, and if he knew which ones they were, weak or not, wand or no wand, he'd probably be fighting his way out of the hospital to hunt down the boy and Obliviate him.

He couldn't remember anything after giving Potter the memories. All he knew for sure was that he felt different now. He felt changed. Here he was - weak, wandless, and being held captive in a hospital bed - feeling freer than ever before, when really, he should feel like a prisoner. Perhaps it was the knowledge that the Dark Lord was dead. Maybe it was that Dumbledore was still only a portrait, to which he felt no longer felt an obligation. Whatever it was, it felt good, and this made Severus scowl. He knew there must be something else, something more, that brought on this feeling. He just couldn't think of what it was at the moment.

"Must you breathe so loud?" Severus grumbled at Barney. "You're worse than an overgrown niffler."

Barney didn't respond, but looked over his newspaper at him nervously. Severus rolled his eyes.

"Has it ever occurred to you not to believe everything you read?" he said smoothly. Barney's face relaxed a little until Severus stretched his arms (making it look an innocent enough gesture), making sure he got an eyeful of the Dark Mark on his forearm. He didn't look over when he heard Barney gasp. The rumpling sound of paper probably meant that the big oaf was hiding behind the Prophet again. Severus smirked.


"...attacked me...no respect...mentally unstable..."

He began to hear some of Healer Arangia's high pitched words carry through the door. He knew that meant Minerva McGonagall must have arrived. Not bothering to smooth down his wild hair, he worked his face into a bored expression just as the door opened and McGonagall stepped in.

"Severus," she said, her lips thinned.

"Minerva. To what to I owe this," he paused and curled his upper lip into a subtle sneer, "pleasure?"

"I see a brush with death has done nothing for your attitude," she said, her hands now placed on her hips in a disapproving manner. "Attacking a St. Mungo's Healer! I never - "

"Indeed, you haven't, but I have," he interrupted, his sneer becoming a twisted smile. His sharp eyes swept over her. "It appears that you don't have my wand. Is it, perhaps, that you have come to finish me?"

"As tempted as I may be, that is not why I am here," she said. She turned to Barney, who had been watching their exchange with obvious interest. "Could we have some privacy?" she snapped at him. He flushed and struggled to pry himself from the chair. Finally succeeding, he rushed out of the door. She shut it behind him and turned back to Severus.

"Believe me when I say," she lowered her voice to a threatening whisper stepped toward him, "that with one word, one word, Severus, I could have you carted off to Azkaban faster than you could say Salazar. It's only on the word of Mr. Potter and myself that you remain free. There are a lot of people out there that would love to see you rot in prison, forever." Severus held her gaze but kept his face expressionless.

"Well, if you've come to neither kill nor imprison me, why are you here? I'm obviously in no condition to receive visitors," he said silkily, gesturing at his bandaged neck.

"Yet you feel well enough to attack one of St. Mungo's finest Healers?" she asked, her eyebrows raised incredulously.

"Quite," Severus agreed with slightest inclination of his head.

"You truly are impossible, Severus," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. She took a deep breath then continued. "Though I must be insane for doing so, I am indeed here to return your wand."

"My wand. Where is it?" Severus asked, his eyes flashing. McGonagall ignored him.

"I guess if Albus trusted you, and now it seems Potter trusts you, I too must tru -"

"WHERE IS MY WAND?" Severus shouted, causing pain to shoot through his throat so intensely that he clapped his hands around it and squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel blood start to leak through his bandages. Not a second later the door burst open (nearly knocking McGonagall down) and Healer Arangia came bustling in looking furious.

"Honestly, now this man is disturbing the peace, and if..." she cut her own words off and rushed to Severus, "Oh my, you've done it now, haven't you? At this rate, you're never getting out of here! These puncture wounds won't heal if you keep reopening them. Now, move your hands!"

Severus held tight, not moving them, glaring daggers at her. She began to gently pry his hands open.

"I just do not get paid enough for this. Come on now, you big baby," she muttered. He finally released his hands and fought the urge to clasp them around her neck instead. He felt a cool, soothing sensation as she muttered spells and worked her wand in intricate patterns around his neck

"Now," she said, turning to McGonagall, "we need to redress the wounds and get him cleaned up. Will you excuse us?" She nodded and turned to leave.

"My wand," Severus croaked. McGonagall stopped in the doorway.

"I'll be waiting right outside until Healer Arangia has you fixed up again," she said, stepping out of the room and closing the door behind her. Severus glowered; he wanted his wand now.


Half an hour later, Severus was propped up in his bed again, his hair a little more ruffled and wild. He had allowed Healer Arangia to redress his neck without incident, but when she started to pull off his bloodied hospital gown, he insisted that he could do that himself, in private. She looked slightly disappointed, but dropped a clean garment in his lap and left to go stand outside the door, muttering something that sounded like, "who do you think put you into the gown you've got on now?".

There was a gentle knock on the door, and in walked McGonagall and -

"Miss Granger," he hissed, his eyes narrowing. He looked back to McGonagall and said, "I demand that she leave immediately." He was suddenly very aware of the state that his hair was in, but he also couldn't help but to note her appearance was rather unkempt as well.

"Sir," Hermione spoke softly, "I've come to -"

"I don't care why you are here," he interrupted. "I only care that you leave. Now."

"Severus!" McGonagall cried. "That's no way to talk to the woman who saved your life!" Hermione cast her eyes to the floor, looking more than a little frightened. This was not enough to stop the rage from welling up inside of him.

"Saved my life?" he whispered dangerously. "I'll not have another arrogant Gryffindor dangling a life debt in my face. I'll have you know that she did not save my life. Most unfortunately, that honour would first go to Dumbledore, for warning me of Nagini's attack. Second, it would go to me, for developing and brewing that most unique and powerful Blood-Replenishing Potion. But I assure you, the very last person it would go to is her!" He pointed a shaking finger at her, his face contorted in anger. The searing pain in his throat was almost forgotten, and it took all of his control to keep his voice from raising into a scream.

"Well," McGonagall said, "if that's how you feel, we'll just be leaving then." She took a stunned Hermione by the shoulders began to guide her out.

"My wand?" he breathed.

Hermione broke away from McGonagall and drew his wand from her sleeve. Her tearful brown eyes met his, and she held the wand out to him. With narrowed eyes, he reached for it, fully intending to yank it away with force, but as soon as his fingers touched the wood, he felt a calming, pleasurable warmth flow through his body. His mind was flooded with images he hadn't remembered: her looking down at him in the Shrieking Shack, her comforting touch, her glowing youth, and her unique beauty. He held her surprised, wet eyes with his, but kept his grasp on the wand firm and motionless, not wanting this strange moment to pass. But she let go, and he suddenly felt cold and empty. Stunned, his eyes came into focus just in time to see her run from the room.

"Severus, we'll need to talk," McGonagall said, before rushing out of the door to follow Hermione.

He blinked and looked down at his wand. It was then realized that it didn't feel like his wand at all. He turned it in his hands saw it looked like his wand, but something wasn't right. He raised it and flicked it at his water glass. It trembled, but nothing else happened. His eyebrows furrowed, and he flicked it again. And again.


A/N: Forgot to mention in the last chapter..."Arangia" is the Late Latin word for "orange". Given the vivid orange color of her hair, I couldn't resist.

I'm looking forward to delving deeper into the wandlore aspect of this story.

Thanks to coliemcnoly for beta-reading. Mezzo Princess is ill, so she didn't have a chance to beta read this chapter before I posted. All of my well wishes are with her!